


Carve That Pumpkin!

by EllanaSan



Series: Have a Drink Sweetheart (Hayffie Prompts/one shots collection) [34]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Halloween, Post-Canon, Pumpkins, Seasonal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 05:16:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21238784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllanaSan/pseuds/EllanaSan
Summary: She liked the idea of participating in one of Twelve’s traditions.She liked the idea of her and Haymitchsharingtraditions.





	Carve That Pumpkin!

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Hi! So I just finished HADS for the second time! I love it SO much! Anyway, I have a prompt if you would be so kind as consider writing it. Basically the fall season gave me the desire for a super domestic/fluffy story where Haymitch (post mj) brings home a pumpkin. And unlike other holidays in 12 they celebrate Halloween to a degree, including carving pumpkins? And Effie acts all Effie and complains about the mess the task makes? I would love that so much! Thank you darling

Effie warmed her hands at the fire roaring in the fireplace, smiling for no real reason other than how comforting a fire could feel during a cold rainy day.

She hadn’t been sure she would be able to acclimate to Twelve and, so far, it was still a battle. The people weren’t entirely receptive to her presence, the weather was taking some getting used to, the town was still being rebuilt a year after the war and, even if it hadn’t been being rebuilt, she was fairly sure it still wouldn’t have her favorite shops or anything _convenient _to make their lives _easier_… Twelve was an adjustment.

But it still beat being alone in the Capitol, feeling miserable and sinking day after day into depression. She felt better in Twelve, with Haymitch and the children, who understood she wasn’t anywhere near alright after her months at the end of Snow’s government and didn’t press her to be the same she used to be. Oh, she tried, for the children’s sake mostly, she forced herself to be cheerful and often a little dumb and to be the rock they all desperately needed… She tried and they pretended to believe her act because they were good children.

Mostly, their rock was Haymitch.

He hadn’t been doing that well before she had showed up – that much she had gathered from Peeta – but he was doing much better now. She gave him a purpose, she figured, a reason to get up in the morning instead of sleeping the whole day away and drink himself into a stupor all night. It wasn’t all smooth sailing and the first few weeks had been terrible but they had finally gotten to a place where Effie was comfortable imagining a more stable future.

They would never be the classic couple but they worked – or they _could _work if they gave themselves the chance – and Effie was alright with that. Classic was overrated anyway. 

He needed her to need him and she needed him to need her.

It wasn’t the healthiest coping system but it beat the toxicity of their past affair.

A sudden noise startled her and she whirled around, heart racing, only to realize at the most familiar sounds of Haymitch’s footsteps that it was probably just the back door being kicked open. Curious as to why he hadn’t properly opened the door – because he was always wary of startling her those days – she made her way to the kitchen in time to see him place a _huge_ pumpkin on the table.

Her eyebrows shot up. “Are we expecting an army for dinner?”

Haymitch rolled his eyes but she could tell he wasn’t really annoyed, there was a rare glint of boyish excitement in his gaze as he closed the door and made sure it was properly shut. Something was loose and it tended to bang open on its own volition when the wind really picked up.

“It’s for Samhain.” he explained. “Wasn’t going to do it but the boy got one for us so…”

“One for what?” she asked, confused. “What is… _Samhain_?”

She tried the word out, not quite sure of the right pronunciation. He often made fun of her Capitol accent but his own could get so _thick _sometimes…

“Samhain.” he repeated with a frown of his own. “It’s a holiday. Marks the end of the harvest season.” He watched her for a moment and when it was obvious it didn’t ring any bell, he scoffed. “Come on, you’re telling me you don’t have a fancy fall version of Samhain in the city?”

“We have Halloween?” she hesitated, moving to the counter to turn the electric kettle on because the kitchen was always chillier than the living-room and she could guess they were there for a while – if anything cooking that monstrosity would take _hours_ and, granted, _she _wouldn’t be doing any cooking but she would stay with him because she felt bad about being so useless in a kitchen.

“What’s that?” he asked, opening a few drawers until he found what he was looking for.

What he was looking for turned out to be the biggest sharpest knife in the house. She watched him from the corner of her eye as she fetched two mugs from the cupboard and grabbed the box full of different tea bags.

“People wear scary costumes… Monsters, vampires, witches, ghosts, that sort of things…” she hummed, her fingers dancing over the various tea bags, wavering between her favorite strawberry flavor and the orange one with hints of cinnamon. “The children walk around the neighborhood asking for candy… There are parties… It is _quite_ fun.” She didn’t need to look to know he had just rolled his eyes again, this time properly annoyed. “Which one do you want?”

“Whatever you’re having.” he dismissed, making a face. “Trust the Capitol to make a joke of Samhain…”

“Well, educate me, then.” she teased. “You are _dying_ to.”

A slow smirk blossomed on his lips and he came closer, slowly trapping her against the counter. She didn’t quite mind being trapped but she _did_ mind the knife he was still holding a little bit.

“I do like _educating _you…” he joked, leaning in.

“Funny…” she deadpanned just as he brushed his mouth against hers. “The way I remember it, _I _did most of the educating…”

“Smart ass.” he accused, pecking her lips lightly once. The next peck wasn’t light. She parted her lips for the one after that, humming happily when he dropped the knife on the counter to grab her waist.

The kettle hissed and he groaned in protest when she drew back.

He dropped a kiss on her cheek and another one under her jaw.

“Weren’t you educating me?” she reminded him, playfully nudging him out of the way so she could pour the water in the mugs.

“I like _your_ kind of educating better.” he retorted, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and nuzzling her nape. He brushed her loose blond hair over her shoulder so he could have better access. “Want some more lessons…”

She laughed. She couldn’t help it. And a part of her marveled at the bubble of happiness that rose in her chest.

A few months ago only she had thought she would never be happy again, she had entirely _forgotten_ what being happy _felt like_.

She glanced at the clock and figured chances were good Katniss or Peeta would show up before long because dinner time wasn’t that far away and they would want to confirm plans. They usually all had dinner together every night but Haymitch wasn’t always in a mood – or in a state – to cook.

“Later.” she promised.

At another point of their relationship, he would have chanced his luck, argued they could get away with it… Instead, he dropped a last kiss against the side of her neck, his stubble leaving a familiar itch, and let out a content sigh.

“Later.” he echoed, clearly satisfied with that.

It wasn’t that they were lacking the heat of passion anymore, she mused, it was that there was pleasure to be found in the certainty that they would _have_ a _later_. That they would share a bed like they did every night, like they would do for all the nights to come, and that there was no rush to have sex right then against the closest flat surface because they would be able to take their time soon enough…

“So… What are we doing with this giant pumpkin?” she asked once she had finished pouring water. “Is there a special dish for Samhain or…”

“Nah, we’re gonna carve it.” he cut her off with that same boyish excitement from earlier. “Haven’t done that since I was a kid…”

“_Carve_ it?” she repeated dubiously.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Find a bowl. We need to empty it first but there’s no need to waste any of it. Mama used to bake pumpkin cake with the leftovers… Ain’t really sure of the recipe… Let’s ask the boy when he shows up.”

“Of course.” she agreed readily, getting a mixing bowl from the cupboard. “But why are we carving the poor pumpkin?”

“You really _never_ did that?” he insisted, snatching his knife back from the counter.

She lifted an eyebrow. “Haymitch, I can _barely_ boil water _without_ setting the house on fire, do you _truly _see me playing with a knife and a pumpkin? Do you imagine my mother would have approved of _that_?”

He wrinkled his nose but shrugged. “Point.”

He attacked the pumpkin with the knife without really giving her a warning.

“Please, be careful!” she gasped, wary of an accident.

But his hands were steady enough that day and he clearly had experience doing that because he sliced the crown of the pumpkin neatly off and flashed her a smug smirk for her troubles.

“Alright, so… Story goes Samhain is like a special day when the veil between life and death is the thinnest… In the old days, people were afraid of mean ghosts and evil spirits getting to them on that night…” he explained, fishing a big service spoon from the drawer.

“Are we tossing pumpkin cakes at evil spirits later tonight?” she teased.

“Not quite.” he snorted, struggling to scoop the seeds and flesh out of the pumpkin. He dropped everything in the bowl she had set out. “It’s all _bullshit_, of course…” He shrugged defensively as if she would have thought for one second that a rational man like him could believe in all the nonsense. “In Twelve, we make lanterns for Samhain… When you can afford it, the best is pumpkin but you can use big turnips too… Bit harder, though… You can’t afford any of that, you go for paper or you get creative…” He shook his head. “Haven’t been in a while but you’ve _got _to see the town and the Seam when all the lanterns are out there… It’s _something_.”

She could imagine…

She grabbed her mug of tea and sat on the opposite side of the table, watching him work. He had rolled off his sleeves and his forearms… Well, his forearms had always been _quite_ appealing.

“Why lanterns?” she asked.

“Oh…” He stopped using the spoon and used his hand to grab some resisting flesh. She _hoped_ he had washed his hands not too long ago. “Bit silly… It’s supposed to be a way to welcome your dead loved ones home… Also, it protects the house against evil spirits…”

“I see…” she hummed.

“Kids love it.” he added as an afterthought. “Should have seen Peeta…” He snorted. “Ain’t sure Katniss is as much into it but it ain’t like he’s gonna give her a choice… She’s gonna be carving that pumpkin…”

She grinned and hid behind her mug. “Now, that sounds dirty, darling.” The tea was scalding and she burned her tongue but it was worth it to see him sputter and then scoff in outrage.

“_Don’t_ remind me they’re doing stuff.” he muttered. “We _don’t_ _know_ they’re doing stuff for sure. We _don’t_ _wanna_ know.”

It was fair but it was always so fun to rile him up…

She took another sip and definitely lost all feelings on her tongue.

“Children are not the only ones who love this.” she remarked. “You can make fun of Peeta all you like but you seem to be _quite_ into it.”

“It’s fun.” he grumbled, a little defensive. “You’ll see. You’ll like it.”

She frowned. “Oh, I am _not _touching this.” She waved at the slimy flesh of the pumpkin in the bowl. “It is _quite _disgusting.” She made a face when she caught sight of the table. “And you made a mess.”

“We can clean it up.” he dismissed, setting the bowl aside on the counter. “And you’ve got to help with the carving ‘cause my hands are useless…”

Useless or not, he washed them at her pointed glare.

She surveyed the large pumpkin with some wariness. “What are we supposed to carve? You keep talking about carving but you never explained what exactly that entails?”

“Traditionally, it’s a scary face… Some people do really elaborate stuff though… Cats… Witches… You can do whatever you want…” he said, grabbing his mug.

She didn’t comment when he spiked it with some liquor. She didn’t like it but she was still smoking when he wasn’t looking so she didn’t feel she had a real right to tackle _that _fight. Mostly, he kept the drinking to a minimum. She couldn’t ask for more. Not for now. 

“A scary face…” she hummed. She reached behind her for the notepad she always kept on the dresser. The paper was thin and grainy, appropriate for jutting down the grocery list but not quite for drawing. Still, she ignored that and quickly sketched what she imagined to be a cartoonish scary face. When she was done, she turned it around so Haymitch could see. “Will that do?”

He was silent for a moment and then snorted. “That’s… _fucking _more difficult than what I’d have gone for… But it’s gonna look _fucking _great. You’re gonna have to draw an outline on the pumpkin though…”

“I have a sharpie somewhere…” she replied, letting herself get caught up in his enthusiasm. She hunted the sharpie down to the small pocket of the suitcase she had hauled on the guest room wardrobe and almost jogged back down to the kitchen, eager to do her part.

She liked the idea of participating in one of Twelve’s traditions.

She liked the idea of her and Haymitch _sharing _traditions.

Perhaps she would have him curling up on the couch to watch scary movies together while eating candy later that night…

She sat back down and slid the pumpkin closer to her so she could have proper space to work, measuring her every move before she started sketching with the sharpie. She was hyperaware of Haymitch watching her with a not-quite smile on his lips.

“You are distracting me.” she complained, glancing at him.

She was trying to get the shapes of the teeth just _right_.

“Yeah?” He snorted and while he didn’t really move, she felt his feet bracketing one of her ankles between his.

Her mouth twitched. “Aren’t we a bit old to play footsie under the table?”

She kept her tone very casual but she couldn’t quite hide how pleased she felt.

“Someone taught me we’re never too old to do dumb flirty stuff.” he deadpanned.

She didn’t even try _not_ to smile. “Was it Peeta?”

“Nah. A hot blonde…” he replied, letting his voice drawl out. “Can’t really remember her name. Shame. I was really into her at some point…”

She pursed her lips to stop herself from laughing, clicking the sharpie’s cap back on. “Oh? And what happened to her?”

“Saddest thing…” He shook his head, placing his hand over his heart. “She went and settled down with an old drunk…”

She faked a gasp. “You _don’t_ say!”

He nodded with exaggeration. “Yeah… Last I heard they were _living_ _in sin_.”

She clucked her tongue. “_Shocking_.”

“I know, right? All the old women love to gossip about it.” he mocked.

She lost some of her good humor. The gossiping was rampant and while she had never truly minded before the war, now… Now she was having a lot of troubles accepting random people discussing her private life.

“At least it gives them something else to talk about than whose goat is making cheese and whose goat is ready to have a baby.” she retorted. “Although I _was_ informed by Sae there are now _bets_ on how long it will take you to make a honest woman out of me.”

She regretted the outburst the moment the words were out of her mouth. He still didn’t react well to talks about feelings and he refused to properly define their relationship. Getting to admit it was an _actual _relationship had been like arm-wrestling a bear.

But he didn’t startle. If anything he looked amused. “Can’t make a _honest_ woman out of you even if I try… You’re a cunning little thing who cheats at poker.”

She rolled her eyes, glad that she hadn’t spoiled the mood. “_Please_. You sound like Johanna. Do not be a sore loser.” She turned the pumpkin toward him before he could reply. “_Here_. I am done. Do the carving.”

There was a twinkle in his grey eyes that let her know she was only getting the last word because he was _letting _her but she didn’t really mind. Watching him carefully follow the sharpie lines with the knife was fun.

“Wanna try?” he offered, once he had done one eye.

She hesitated. “I will ruin it. I am _hopeless_ with a knife.”

“Nobody’s asking you to fight it.”He nudged her with his foot. “Come on, I’ll help.”

She sighed but stood up and rounded the table to stand next to him. She took the knife he handed and tried to make a decisive cut… It sliced the pumpkin’s skin far more easily than she had thought it would.

“Wow, slow down, sweetheart.” he tempered immediately, covering her hand with his. He stepped behind her so he could guide her more easily, plastering his chest to her back. “You always cut _away _from you, yeah? Cause if the knife slips… We don’t wanna end up at the clinic tonight.” He guided her other hand to the side of the pumpkin. “You hold it steady here. Now, it ain’t as hard as you think it is so don’t go stabbing it like it stole your shoes collection…”

She snorted but started slicing along the sharpie lines, taking her time… At some point, he took his hand off hers but he remained behind her. She didn’t say anything. She liked the feeling of his body at her back, she liked the way it made her feel. She was never safer than when he was wrapped around her.

Soon, she had finished half the mouth. “How am I doing?”

His nose bumped into the shell of her ear and he pressed a fleeting kiss behind it. “_Real_ good, Princess.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle. “Have we discovered a new kink, Haymitch? Does the sight of me with a knife turns you on?”

“Everything you do turns me on.” he deadpanned, not even trying to hide the note of yearning in his voice.

It was flattering though. And she couldn’t help but preen a little.

“Perhaps we _should_ leave the carving for later…” she purred.

It was his turn to chuckle. His mouth was hot when it trailed down the side of her neck. “Now, who’s…”

The back door opened without warning and the children barged in only to freeze. However, they had interrupted them in various compromising situations enough time that they immediately relaxed when they realized all hands were present and accounted for.

Peeta’s eyebrows shot up and Katniss rolled her eyes before shutting the door with a scowl on her face.

“That doesn’t seem like a really safe thing to do when you have a knife in your hand.” the boy remarked.

Haymitch let out an irritated sigh but stepped away from her.

Effie forced a polite smile on her lips because she was feeling frustrated but it wasn’t really the children’s fault. She had _known _there wouldn’t be time for any fooling around and she shouldn’t have given in to the temptation to _risk _it.

“It looks good.” Katniss declared, dropping on a chair and nodding at the half-finished pumpkin. 

“Thank you!” she beamed. “Did you finish yours?”

“Which one?” the girl deadpanned. The fondness when she looked at Peeta was evident.

Effie watched them share a look and then turned to Haymitch who appeared as clueless as she was. There was some sort of private joke there they weren’t privy to.

The explanation soon presented itself though.

Peeta hadn’t bought _one _pumpkin, he had bought _dozens _of them. And he wasn’t happy with carving _only _scary faces.

Effie had been very proud of her own pumpkin until he showed her the one he had already carved. The amount of details was amazing and it was, truly, a masterpiece.

Now, she knew he was the artist in their little makeshift family but she refused to be so easily outdone.

Haymitch saw the look on her face and sighed. “You’re gonna make me buy more of them, ain’t you?”

She flashed him a smile. “If we are going to participate, we should do it _right_. I _do_ want to try and carve something a little more ambitious next.”

“Sure…” He snorted. “And who’s gonna scoop the flesh out of all the pumpkins ‘cause the other one thinks it’s disgusting work?”

“Ah, yes…” she hummed. “But who will get more cake?”

She wriggled her eyebrows playfully and he snorted again, reaching for her nape before thinking better of it since the children were still there watching them with obvious amusement.

“Can’t never say no to _your_ _cake_…” Haymitch surrendered, innocently enough.

It was still enough to make Katniss and Peeta groan in unison.

Probably because the innuendo wasn’t as subtle as Haymitch thought it was…

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! Let me know your thoughts!


End file.
